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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224317">Trapped</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyya/pseuds/Rubyya'>Rubyya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Paranatural (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:00:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyya/pseuds/Rubyya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac couldn't breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in on him and at the same time disappearing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

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<a name="section0001"><h2>Trapped</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Isaac stared at the area around him. No. No. He couldn't be back here. He had spent so many years trapped in here. He knew every hallway, pathway, and floor by heart. He could navigate it blind. The years before he'd found others had been the hardest. So many years alone calling out in the hopes someone would reply. If anyone was there, they never did.  The doors and people had come at the same time. It had been a miracle. Yet, the people meant nothing. Isaac had been trapped for so long that there was nothing in common between them. And the people could leave. They could go back behind their doors and go about their merry way, while Isaac was still stuck in the twisting halls. He wanted out. To be anywhere but there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Or, at the very least, to have a friend. The prison never seemed to respond. Eventually, the people stopped coming too. There was nothing for them in the prison that they couldn't get where they came from. Then someone had suggested making a club, a group, an organization. People would stay with Isaac if there was something he had that they couldn't get elsewhere. He thought and he thought. The only real thing he had to offer was the knowledge he had and his prison. Yet, the people liked his knowledge. When he talked people listened, and they wanted to come back. Over time, the prison grew to be less of a prison and more a home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was still a prison though. Isaac never felt hungry or thirsty or tired. When there happened to be no people, there was nothing else to do. And when he cut himself, there was no blood. There wasn't even any pain, just the skin slowly knitting itself back together. Time passed, more and more. One day, he woke up. Woke up in the middle of the forest, in a time that wasn't his own. None of the people that had come to his prison were near him. He was free now, but alone.</span>
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